


bring you to the bed where we can really make it right

by sarcasticfishes



Series: look how they align [3]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Sex, Domesticity, Established Relationship, Fingerfucking, First Time, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Size Difference, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 08:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17998502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfishes/pseuds/sarcasticfishes
Summary: “Gross,” Ryan grins. “You like me.”“Youjustasked me to fuck you.”“You have feelings,” Ryan teases, and jabs at Shane's stomach again. “You like me.”“More thanlikeyou, Ryan,” Shane grabs the offending hand and kisses it, as if Ryan hadn't been devastated enough by his words alone. Romantic Shane, what a bastard. “So, where are you hiding the goods?”





	bring you to the bed where we can really make it right

**Author's Note:**

> hey uh this lil shyanara 'verse won't leave me alone. this was 90% an excuse to write some smut and specifically some sara/ryan because i'm an absolute heathen. the other 10% was my desire to explore their sexual dynamics outside of the triad and also figure out how their various habits during sex would rub off on one another. SO. here ya go. enjoy :)
> 
> (this is part of a series but i'm pretty sure it can be read alone, you just gotta read between the lines a little.)

### 1.

Sleeping with someone on the first date is not really something Shane has ever been known for. In fact, in more than one instance, he’s waited even beyond the socially acceptable third date, through even the fifth, sixth date, before making a move. He’s always liked to be sure of things, not just for himself but for the person he’s laid he affections upon.

But here’s the thing — with Sara, it doesn’t really  _feel_ like a first date. They’ve been circling and flirting for so long that this new intimacy feels natural; it’s so easy to touch her openly by tucking her hair behind her ear or taking her hand in his as they sit side-by-side. It’s a hangout, but one where Shane is pretty sure he’s gonna kiss her at the end of the night, which is a whole thing they haven’t done before.

He wouldn’t consider himself exactly  _chivalrous_ , he just likes to be helpful and treat her well, and Sara seems to enjoy even if she wouldn’t admit it outright. They go to a movie and he pays, he holds her purse when she goes to the bathroom, and he opens the car door for her because his mother didn’t raise a fool. He walks her to her door and is about to lean down for the kiss when she jams her key in the front door and flings it open.

“You’re coming in, right?” she asks, and Shane has to work hard and quickly to school his expression because he’s wanted her for so long, and it’s taking pretty much all of his willpower not to just drop to his knees for her right there.

“Yeah, if you want,” he says softly, because she could mean for coffee or she could mean… for  _coffee_ (oh, that old cliché). Sara pulls him inside by the sleeve of his denim jacket.

“I don’t really wear shoes in the apartment,” Sara says, and leaves her flats on a rack by the door. Shane takes it as a hint, and nudges his shoes off, pushing them in next to hers. Today, more than any other day, he feels incredibly large beside her.

There’s a moment's pause where he looks down at her, feeling anxiety and want and affection all swirling furiously in his gut all at once, and Sara seems to rock on the balls of her feet before surging up, cupping her hands around his face and pulling him down to kiss her. Shane spends the best part of a second being surprised before the kiss registers in his brain, and he throws himself fully into it, and lets her crowd into his space. She swipes her hands over his chest under his jacket, and then smoothly slides it off over his shoulders, a soft  _thwump_ as it hits the ground — it makes her intentions pretty clear, and Shane doesn’t have an argumentative bone in his body for her.

He’s practically bent over, and she’s right up on the tips of her toes, so it’s easy for him to wrap his arms around his waist and lift. Automatically, Sara’s legs wrap around his waist, one hand in his hair and the other gripping his shoulder.

“Uh, where,” he says, against her mouth, struggling to form much more of a sentence and blessed that Sara seems to understand him anyway.

“Bedroom’s through there,” she briefly releases her grip on his hair to wave wildly behind her. “I mean, if you—”

“Yeah,” Shane says, quickly, before kissing her again and making a beeline for the bedroom door. He’s twenty-nine, and he’s never carried a girl into a bedroom before, and he’s pretty sure his brain shorts out when he lays her down on the bed and realizes what’s about to go down. (Him.)

The hem of her dress rides dangerously high on the tops of her thighs, and he’s sure he’s not imagining the hint of lace peeking out between her thighs (but he wants to take a closer look to make sure). It takes everything he’s got not to just bury his face in there without another word. He stretches out over her, kissing her neck and jaw until he gets to her mouth, sighing softly when she tilts her hips to his with a little whine, wanting.

“Sara,” he says, gently, and she hums in reply. “Tell me if I’m being too forward about this, but I’d love to make you come with my mouth.”

Sara’s head tips back against the mattress, and she groans. “Those sure are some words you just said.”

(Shane’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.)

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, please stay and keep saying things.”

(It’s good, then.)

“Honestly I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now and I just— yeah, please let me eat you out.”

“If you don’t, I swear to god I’m going to scream.”

“Was kind of hoping you’d scream anyway.”

“ _Shane,_ ” she laughs.

He kisses her a little harder, enough that he can tug at her lower lip when he pulls back and starts to make his descent. He gets down on his knees at the end of the bed, hooking his hands under her thighs so that he can pull her to the edge of the mattress and get right in between.

Shane puts his mouth on her over her panties, her skirt caught up high around her waist, and Sara groans loudly, pushing up into the heat. She has her hands in his hair, keeping him there even when he’s tugging at lace and trying to undress her. He’s always been rather good at this, but that’s really down to the fact that he’s paying attention, to the noises she makes, what she really likes and what’s just okay.

Sara Likes:

  * When he uses his tongue to fuck her, licking inside
  * When he nudges his nose right up against her clit
  * When he pushes two fingers inside her, ever so gently, just to give her something to clench around
  * When he finally, _finally_ , seals his mouth over her clit to finish her off



Sara gets loud before she gets quiet, swearing up a storm with Shane’s name peppered in for good measure before she falls silent, body arching up and flexing as she comes. Shane feels her pulsing around his fingers and doesn’t stop until she’s twitching away from him, whining a little bit.

He rubs his cheek against her inner thigh, beard not quite long enough yet for it to not prickle her, and feels her legs quake around him. He’s so hard that it’s rather uncomfortable (someday he’s gonna find some pants that fit him right, something more accommodating).

“You’re good at that,” Sara says, weakly, as Shane pulls himself up on the bed, laying down next to her. They’re both still mostly dressed, and Shane has to reach down and undo his pants to relieve the pressure; Sara makes a noise of surprise when she looks over and realizes he's hard. “You’re… you like doing that?”

“Yeah,” Shane croaks, rolling onto his side towards her, slipping his arm over her waist to draw her closer. “It was the first thing I said, remember? That I’d love to make you come. With m’mouth.”

Sara doesn’t say anything, just looks at him, lifting her hand to his cheek. Shane wonders what kind of shitty guys she’s been dating. She pulls him on top of her again, using the ball of her foot to help him push down his jeans and briefs, wriggling out of her dress when he rolls it up over her head and throws it aside. He peels himself out of his shirt when she twists away to grab a condom from her nightstand.

Her hair is a dark tangle of curls around her face, her cheeks and the tip of her nose flushed the same rosy pink as the tips of her breasts. Even if he didn’t get to fuck her tonight (and it was really looking like he would), this would have been enough, it would have been perfect.

“Do you want to—” Sara holds out a condom, and then pulls it back. “Should I?”

“I’ll—” Shane reaches out, and she meets him halfway to hand it over and he’s pretty sure that if she had even tried to touch him the whole experience would be over far too quickly for anyone’s liking. He tries not to focus too much on the feeling of his own hand when he rolls the condom on, because he honest to god wants to pound her into the damn mattress. But then Sara surprises him by pushing him down onto the bed, climbing into his lap, and riding him within an inch of his life, so it doesn’t really matter.

She bows over to kiss him, and the hard friction of their bodies together is fucking intense, almost excruciating. Shane sinks back into the covers and lets Sara nip at his neck, spread her hands over his chest for balance as she works him over. Sara comes again like that, just grinding down on him and trembling as she reaches her completion, and it’s the easiest thing in the world to follow her, and come while she tightens around him and whispers his name into the center of his chest.

She falls away from him eventually, and Shane takes a few minutes to find his legs before he can toss the condom and crawl right back into her waiting arms. She’s warm and a little sticky, but so is he, and it’s the best he’s felt in as long as he can remember. It feels different, with her looking at him with this undecipherable expression — if he had to put a name to it, a mixture of pleased and anxious and you-might-be-my-soulmate, he might call it _‘endearment’_.

They don’t fall asleep right away, not for a while. Sara pulls a sheet over them both and snakes her ankle between Shane’s calves. It’s not that late yet, the pillow-talk comes easy and sweet between them, until Sara tucks her face into Shane’s bicep and falls asleep there. Shane’s arm goes dead but he can’t bring himself to move or push her away.

Tomorrow Ryan will ask how the date went, knowing how long Shane’s been wanting this, how long he’s been waiting. Shane needs to think of a good way to keep his cool, because if Ryan figures out how completely ass-over-tea-kettle head-over-heels Shane is, he’ll never let him live it down.

Sara smiles in her sleep, and Shane kisses her forehead. It’s not just the endorphins talking when he thinks he’s falling in love.

 

### 2.

For Unsolved, they still book hotel rooms with two beds, both for the sake of ease and the fact that they’re still keeping their relationship on the down-low. People at work know, and the BUN crew knows, and there is — of course — speculation online. But Ryan’s actually enjoying keeping things low key and private for once.

“Which bed?” Shane asks. Earlier they’d just dropped their bags in the room, in a hurry to get down to the location on time after a delayed flight. Ryan’s head is a little fuzzy in the way it usually is after an investigation, but he knows he’ll perk up soon after a shower, maybe a backrub if he can convince Shane.

“Window,” Ryan says, as he’s making a beeline for the bathroom, which is the usual choice; he likes to be as far from the door as possible when he sleeps. He’s been thinking about a thorough shower since he accidentally walked through an extremely webby doorway. Luckily they have a pretty nice hotel, and the water is as hot as Ryan wants it to be, leaving his skin bright pink and tingling when he finally gets out of the shower. He wraps a towel around his waist and collapses onto the bed next to where Shane’s lounging at the edge, leaning on his elbow and scrolling through his phone.

“Better?” Shane asks, without looking up from his screen.

“Yeah,” Ryan sighs, rolling his shoulders leisurely, “those spider webs were gross.”

“Well, I told you to look where you were running.”

“I _was_ looking, asshole, the webs were invisible,” Ryan giggles, poking at Shane’s middle, and giggling again when Shane swats him away and then pokes him back. Ryan’s stomach doesn’t have quite as much give as Shane’s, but he’s far more ticklish, flinching away from the touch. Shane finally looks up at him, smiling as he sweeps a large palm apologetically over Ryan’s tummy.

“Oof,” Ryan says, putting his hand over Shane’s, holding him there. “I was gonna guilt you into giving me a backrub, but this is good too.”

Shane chuckles, rubbing a little lower, fingers skirting the edge of Ryan’s towel, which is already dangerously askew. Ryan’s stomach clenches. “Feeling frisky?”

“Fris—” Ryan wheezes, “Frisky? Jesus. Shut up and take off your shirt.”

“That’s what I thought,” Shane says, but does as he’s asked anyway, pulling his t-shirt over his head, and nuzzling into Ryan’s palm when he cups his cheek. It’s so very sweet, so different from the way Shane is in front of a camera, that Ryan feels his heart beat just a little bit harder, faster. This is romantic Shane, who has a propensity for leaving Ryan feeling absolutely, emotionally, wrecked.

They don’t do this on work trips, not out of professionalism (ha) but out of exhaustion or even sometimes courtesy when Devon or Matt or Mark are in the next room. In fact, they haven’t done this without Sara… at all. Ryan keeps that little bit of information to himself, a spark of pure _thrill_ zipping through him when Shane leans down to kiss him, making a low, happy humming noise in his chest and throat.

They have a late checkout and flight tomorrow, meaning they have some time to take things slow and stay up late. And Ryan — he needs something right now, he just needs to ask.

“There’s something I wanna do,” he says, smoothing the palms of his hands down Shane's arms, happily letting himself be kissed.

Shane hums out a ‘mmyeah?’ and migrates towards Ryan's jaw, sucking at the skin but gently enough that it wouldn't leave a mark.

“I was hoping you'd want to fuck me,” Ryan says, a touch more breathless than he would have liked. Shane stops kissing him and looks up, eyes wild.

“You were?” he croaks, and Ryan nods, hooking an ankle over Shane's calf and stroking it.

“Yeah, I've—” he swallow thickly, “I've been thinking about it for a while. Also, I just showered so I think now is a good time to go for it.”

“Right now?” Shane asks, breathy and almost hopeful. “Did you bring stuff?”

“I always bring stuff,” Ryan says, pointedly. “But if you're talking about lube, yes, I brought lube.”

“You brought lube on our ghost hunting trip.”

“You're seriously surprised by this?” Ryan's beaming at the stunned look on Shane's face, his bright eyes, and his pink cheeks. He's been letting his beard grow out and it looks so fucking good, feels even better.

“No,” Shane says, resigned but smiling, “Just terribly enamored.”

“Gross,” Ryan grins. “You like me.”

“You just asked me to fuck you.”

“You have  _feelings,_ ” Ryan teases, and jabs at Shane's stomach again. “You like me.”

“More than  _like_ you, Ryan,” Shane grabs the offending hand and kisses it, as if Ryan hadn't been devastated enough by his words alone. Romantic Shane, what a bastard. “Where are you hiding the goods?”

“In my duffel, side pocket,” Ryan grins, unable to hide his excitement. Up until now, sex between them has been a lot of hands and mouths, one of them holding Sara while the other fucks her. Ryan's eager to have Shane as close as physically possible, inside him and wrapped around him. “You’ve done this before?”

Shane laughs. “Fucked someone?”

“Well I mean like, anal,” Ryan replies, turning to his side as Shane digs through Ryan's bag at the end of the bed. Shane pauses to look up at him.

“Oh. Yeah,” he says, softly. “You worried about it?”

“No, I trust you,” Ryan says, truthfully, “I was just wondering if you and Sara ever tried it.”

Shane smiles a little crookedly, pushes up his glasses. “We have. It's usually me receiving though.”

Ryan honest to God just thinks,  _welp_.

“Hoo boy,” he sighs, and doesn't even recognize his own voice. “That's a vision.”

Shane's crooked grin turns wicked. “Maybe she'll do you when we get home.”

Ryan's been somewhat aware of his growing erection since stepping out of the shower, but he's suddenly achingly aware of how hard he is, how present he feels. “Holy fuck.”

“Yeah, she's pretty good at it.”

“Oh _fuck,_ Jesus Christ, is that—” Ryan gulps, “Can you get back over here please?”

Shane laughs as he climbs back onto the bed, hooking his fingers into the loose knot at the front of Ryan’s towel and tugging until it opens. “I’m here,” he says, and with the barest touch, drags his fingertips up the length of Ryan’s cock as it bobs up towards his stomach. It’s  _torturous_.

“Please, Shane,” Ryan whispers, because he’s not beyond begging, not when it’s for Shane.

Shane opens him up nice and slow, letting Ryan get used to the feeling, and it’s surprising how his body reacts. It feels  _okay_ to him, but his dick seems to be 100% on board, leaking and wet against his belly. Shane finds that sweet spot inside him, and suddenly it’s not just  _okay_ , but  _really okay_ , maybe even  _great_. A moan bubbles up unbidden out of Ryan’s throat, and he instinctually spreads his legs wider to invite Shane in further.

“It’s weird at first,” Shane says, and Ryan nods in agreement even as he’s starting to push back against Shane’s fingers, ride them a little. “I think after a while you start to associate the weird feeling with the good feelings, it’s—”

“Can you like hurry up please,” Ryan breathes out all in a rush, eyes closed. “I’d really like some dick now.”

“Nice,” Shane says, flatly, but his smile betrays him. “Alright. You wanna stay on your back?”

“Yeah I heard it’s romantic or some shit,” Ryan says, just to see the way Shane laughs in surprise as he’s kneeling in between Ryan’s thighs. Shane helps him get a pillow in under his back, moving his legs into position. Shane starts to slide in, pushing and pushing until the head slips in, and it’s so different from the feeling of fingers that Ryan lets out a little _‘oh’_ in surprise and bites down on his lip.

“Is that a good noise, or,” Shane asks, his voice very low and quiet. Almost strained.

“Good,” Ryan sighs in response, as Shane keeps pushing in. “Oh, fuck. It’s a lot.”

“You’re taking it so well, baby,” Shane says, and the pet-name warms Ryan right to his core, because that’s what Shane calls Sara when he’s fucking her too. “You’re doing really well.”

When Shane is all the way in, which is quite a bit of dick in Ryan’s humble opinion, he leans in to kiss Ryan’s chin, and cheek, and mouth. Ryan feels like he’s folded in on himself, and so fucking full in a way he’s never felt before. It takes him a minute to stop twitching in surprise with the minute movements of Shane’s breaths, but Shane doesn’t stop kissing him, sighing between each parting of their lips.

“Let me fuck you now?” Shane mumbles, and Ryan is nodding eagerly, groaning into his mouth.

“Please,” he says again.

Shane always feels big to Ryan, standing next to him when they film, sleeping beside him in their bed with Sara, curled up on the couch with a movie and takeout. He’s never felt this all-encompassing before though, his whole body wrapped around Ryan even while he’s fucking him, holding him tight, in just the right position. Ryan feels like he’s being pulled apart, but the agony of it is exquisite and sweet.

Shane keeps shushing him and kissing him, so he  _must_ be making noise, but it’s so terribly hard to concentrate on anything other than the pressure in his belly and hips and thighs and cock, everything between his waist and knees straining and aching.

“Oh, you’re already close,” Shane says, somehow managing to sound smug and breathless at the same time, “Bet you didn’t expect to like this so much. Never seen you this desperate before.”

“Oh fuck you,” Ryan breathes, finally getting a hand on his cock. Shane’s right. He didn’t expect to like this quite so much, didn’t expect to feel it so intensely. It takes only a handful (heh) of strokes in time with Shane fucking him, and he’s coming over his fist, seeing white behind his eyelids.

He’s catching his breath when Shane bows over him and groans, tucking his face into Ryan’s shoulder, and the sweet slide of their fucking gets just that tiny bit slippier, wetter, as Shane comes inside him.

Ryan’s probably going to have to shower again but he cannot find it in himself to care, presently.

“Wow,” Ryan says, and can feel Shane’s grin pressed against his skin. “Hey, we spent five years _not doing that?”_

Shane starts to laugh and — oh, the pull-out does  _not_ feel great, Ryan will admit — flops over onto the bed beside him.

“Well, we’re smarter now,” Shane says and stretches luxuriously against the sheets. He’s flushed and sticky-looking, cock laying shiny and wet against his thigh, but he’s gorgeous, even with all those limbs. Ryan feels like a damn mess, and he’s not sure he can walk to the bathroom just yet.

“I might need some help with a second shower actually,” Ryan says, noting the way Shane’s eyelids are drooping more than usual, the sleepy, relaxed set of his brow.

“I can do that,” Shane yawns. “C’mere a sec tho, cuddle with me first.”

It’s really no hardship for Ryan to lay down with Shane, carefully slinging a leg over his thigh, sighing happily when Shane snuggles down into his chest. He’s still missing Sara’s warmth at his back, her delicate hands holding him tight and steady. The sharp point of Shane’s elbow against his ribs is a far cry from the softness of her curves, but Ryan has no reason to complain.

He’s the happiest he’s been in a long time, and he can’t wait to get home.

 

### 3.

The alarm on Shane’s phone goes off early on a Saturday morning, and he’s grumbling quietly and apologetically as he slips out of Sara’s arms and shuffles into the bathroom.

“ _I promised Kelsey months ago that I’d help her,_ ” he’d reminded Sara and Ryan the night before,  _“So I’m gonna miss brunch this week.”_

“ _We’ll make you a mimosa when you get home,_ ” Ryan had said, gathering up the dinner plates and pressing a kiss to Shane’s temple as he’d passed — something he’d definitely picked up from Sara — and that was that. Sara rolls over in the bed and into Ryan’s chest as his arms come up around her, and they’re both asleep again before Shane has even stepped into the shower.

It’s considerably later in the day when Sara wakes again, this time to the sound of Obi pawing at the bedroom door. She lays there for a few more minutes with her face tucked into Ryan’s neck, listening to his slow, heavy breaths; she’d always thought he would be a light sleeper but has found that once Ryan feels comfortable and safe he’ll sleep like the dead. He shifts a little when she starts to extract herself, pushing his knee up against the apex of her thighs, arms tightening around her like he doesn’t want her to leave, tempting her to stay with a little grinding action.

“Gotta feed Obi,” Sara says gently, and Ryan’s nose wrinkles when she combs her fingers through his hair. “I’ll be back.”

“You better,” he says, voice thick with sleep, and Sara kisses the wrinkle in his brow before she finally crawls out of the bed. In the kitchen, she puts some food down in Obi’s bowl and scratches behind his ear. On her way back to the bedroom she pauses in the open door of the bathroom to find Ryan slumped over the sink, brushing his teeth with his eyes closed (he’s not a morning person, and she loves him).

“My mouth tasted like ass,” he mumbles around the toothbrush, and Sara presses her lips together, failing to suppress a smile.

“Wonder why.”

“Shut up, _Sara_ ,” Ryan says, grinning as he spits into the sink before continuing to brush. He’s wearing sweatpants that are probably Shane’s, judging by how he’s standing on the hems where they pool around his heels, unhelped by how scandalously low-slung they sit on his hips.

Sara steps in behind him, slipping an arm around his bare waist as she picks up her toothbrush. Ryan straightens up and uses his free hand to squeeze some toothpaste onto her brush, and when Sara looks at them in the mirror she’s just so taken with the way they look, so very domestic, so happy.

Ryan finishes brushing his teeth and leans on his hand against the sink, watching Sara as she finishes up.

“What?” she asks, rinsing her brush.

“ _Ya cute_ ,” Ryan says, in what Sara’s come to recognize as a playful imitation of her own tone of voice, and she makes a face at him when he takes her hand and leads her back into the bedroom. It’s… a  _little_ strange to lie in their bed without Shane, but that’s only because she’s been sharing with Shane for almost four years now. Even months into a relationship with Ryan, there’s still something fresh and sweet about seeing him curl up with his head on her pillow, leaving the space next to him open and inviting.

Sara drapes her legs over his lap, and Ryan wedges a hand between her legs just to grip her thigh and pull her closer, almost right on top of him. She’s expecting a kiss, something a little wet and dirty to get her going, but Ryan just presses his nose against the curls by her temple and inhales — and it has pretty much the exact same effect.

“I know what you’re doing,” Sara says, and rubs her hand over his belly, the way she knows he loves. His grip on her leg tightens. Sara is absolutely an advocate of lazy-weekend-morning-sex, but she kind of wants to make Ryan work for this, Shane always gives in to him far too easily.

“I‘m not doin’ anything,” Ryan says, muffled into her hair, “You smell good.”

Sara knows for a fact she does not. She smells like sweat and toothpaste, just like Ryan (she doesn’t think she wears it as well as he does, however). He slides his hand up further between her legs, until his thumb rests in the crease of her thigh, right at the edge of her panties.

“So you’re _not_ trying to get your hand in my pants?” She asks.

“Nope,” Ryan says, extra emphasis popping the ‘p’ just before he kisses her jaw, and noses up towards her ear.  “Was thinking about getting them off, actually.”

“Getting  _me_ off,” Sara corrects, and Ryan huffs out a laugh right next to her ear. He’s tenting his sweatpants and fooling absolutely no-one.

“That too.”

Sara spreads her legs to give Ryan some room, and for a while, they just kiss, and he plays with her through her panties, the fabric already warm and damp under his fingers. Ryan is firm but gentle, strokes her with the flat of his whole hand, and then traces the swell of her lips and the little bump of her clit with the tips of his fingers. Sara realizes, quickly, that she’s pushing into his touch, trying to get more from him while Ryan pulls back, keeping his touch steady and light. _He’s_ the one making  _her_ work for it.

“You tricky bastard,” Sara says, and Ryan laughs against her mouth, surprised.

“What now?”

“You’re sneaky,” Sara bites at his lip, puts her hand over his, presses down to give herself more friction. Ryan takes the hint — not even a hint, a cue — and tucks his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and tugs, encouraging her to lift her hips as he pulls them down her legs and off.

He pushes into her with his middle and ring finger, and Sara grinds down against the palm of his hand, sighing with satisfaction. He really is very good to her, she really shouldn’t complain, regardless of how sly he is.

“Could I make you come like this?” Ryan asks, as he’s sliding his fingers in and out of her, curling and searching inside for that spot that makes her toes curl. She’s already so wet for him, from his little kisses and teasing touches.

“You  _know_ you could,” Sara grits out, because it’s not like this is their first rodeo. Ryan grins at her, pulls her in closer and  _grinds_ his palm down against her clit, and she can’t hold back her moan.

“I know,” he says, softly, “But do you _want_ me to?”

“Make me come? Yes,” Sara says, and clenches down on him. “Definitely want you to do that.”

“I could fuck you,” Ryan offers.

“Could do both, one right after the other,” Sara counters, but Ryan has focused the pad of his thumb on her clit now and it feels so much better, so much  _more_ , that she has trouble paying attention to his reply. There’s a mounting tightness in her lower-stomach and pelvis, only heightening with the pressure of Ryan’s fingers inside her. “Fuck, that feels good.”

“Still keyed up from last night, huh?”

“Keyed up from  _you_ ,” Sara says, because Ryan has always liked a bit of extra reassurance, and Sara has no qualms about letting him know how into him she really is.

(Even though he’s right about the night before. It had been a little silly and a lot sweaty, Shane fucking her and Ryan giggling behind him, holding Shane’s hips as he tried to eat him out at the same time. It hadn’t been terribly successful, but sometimes Ryan’s eagerness to please others can be the best part of having sex with him, regardless of the result.)

Sara grabs Ryan’s bicep, holding on tight when she says “Don’t stop,” and he doesn’t. He keeps fingering her just like that, until something inside her feels like it’s about to snap or break or burst, and then she’s not just coming, but _coming_. Ryan groans quietly when she drenches his hand, sounding utterly devastated, the slick sounds even louder now in the space between them.

She’s still panting when he turns her over onto her stomach on the mattress, kneeling up behind her. Sara can hear him shuffle out of his sweatpants, and then he pulls her up by the hips, and she squeaks in surprise.

“Sara?” he asks, and presses the tip of his cock against the lips of her pussy, using his thigh to nudge her legs apart.

“Yeah, do it,” she says, breathlessly into the pillow. She’s already floating, warmth tingling in her limbs and core. Ryan slips the head in and stops there, and Sara’s not sure if he’s teasing her or himself. His dick really is something, she thinks idly. Not too long, uncut, nice and thick, the widest part just below the crown — it stretches her just perfectly on each thrust, and the fact that he’s not giving it to her right now? Offensive.

“ _Ryan_ ,” she complains, and he says “Yeah, okay,” and pushes all the way in with one slow, slick thrust.

Ryan keeps his hands on her hips, pulling her back on him and grunting softly with each thrust. He’s not even trying but he’s nailing her  _just_ right, filling her up, pushing her down into the sheets that still smell like the night before.

She can tell he’s getting close when he suddenly gets louder with his groans, and Sara twists around because she wants to see him. The angle just isn’t good enough.

“Ryan,” she says, and he moans very quietly, dropping a kiss onto her shoulder blade. “I wanna see your face.”

“Mmm,” Ryan agrees, pulls out so that Sara can turn over again and watch his brow furrow and his mouth go slack as he pushes back in again. She loves him so very much like this, the way he’s almost stunned with pleasure, the way he goes to another place entirely when he’s  _right there_.

“Good?” she asks, and Ryan bites his lip and nods as she reaches down between them to rub her clit. Since introducing Ryan into the fold and becoming a triad, her admittedly already healthy sex life had — for all intents and purposes — doubled, one of the upsides of that being that her body was learning how to get there quicker and more often. She knows she could come again like this, Ryan tucked in close and fucking her so well, real power and strength in his hips.

He takes her slower like this, face to face, almost like he’s savoring it as he kisses her chin and jaw and lips, his hands buried in the pillows next to her face. She wraps her legs up around his waist and tries to pull him deeper, but he’s already so fucking deep, there’s not much else to do but take it.

“God, Sara,” he says, and bats her hand away to instead rub her with his own fingers, more insistent, knowing she’d been going easy on herself. Sara moans, would have snapped her legs shut with the sudden heightened pleasure were it not for the breadth of his hips between them. She comes again for him, spread open and held so, clenching around the girth of his cock and swallowing his moan as he kisses her and comes too, like he’d been waiting for her.

It’s almost too much, as he fucks her through her orgasm, forehead to forehead, his big body covering hers and rocking slower as they come down. Ryan immediately wraps himself around her as he pulls out and settles back next to her, and Sara somehow feels wet and empty, yet so utterly fulfilled. Ryan strokes the swollen lips of her pussy with the flat of his fingers, and usually she could go for another round, but right now it feels like a lot, and she twitches away from his touch.

“We’re gonna miss brunch,” he mumbles into her hair. It’s tender and sweet, and Sara wonders how she and Shane had gotten so lucky, considering how badly they’d fucked up with Ryan in the beginning. They’d failed to see what a romantic he really was, but now it’s clear as day.

“It’s okay,” Sara says, quietly. Ryan sounds as though he could drift off to sleep again at any moment, and she’s not about to disturb him. “There’s always dinner.”

She thinks she could work up an appetite again for when Shane gets home.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank y'all. comments keep me going.


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